Page 56 of Fresh Canvas
I’d spurned him on the museum steps while he’d been working to save Rick’s job. I had yelled at him during our interview. I’d given him the cold shoulder for months, only to break it with snappy retorts. And worst of all, I had crushed a widower’s heart for the sake of winning an argument on a stupid plane.
The complicated man wasn’t sadistic. He wasgrieving.
I knew how insidious a broken heart could be, leaching misery into all aspects of life. Even I had felt it over the last few years: the urge to harden against the world. The allure of shutting anyone out who could hurt me. Val had succumbed to it. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—judge him for that.
Without hesitation, I crossed the office and sat on the edge of the desk beside him. His gaze was unfocused, glued to the computer screen. Val’s hands sat frozen atop the keys, less than a foot away from mine. My palms itched to cover his, if only for a comforting moment. The cowards rested in my lap instead.
“I’m sorry I asked,” I murmured. “We don’t need to talk about her.” I wrapped my arms around the guilty knot in my stomach. “Really, Val. You don’t need to say anything. I’m sorry.”
“It’s…” Val cleared his throat. His eyes shifted sideways to my sitting form, only inches away from where his arms rested on the keyboard. He examined me in that peculiar way that made me feel exposed and fluttery. He released another heavy breath.
“It’s okay.” Val stood and moved to the bookshelf. Cradling the picture in his hands, he returned to his seat. “Her name was Stella.” His voice was strained. “We were married for eight years. She passed away a few years ago.”
I couldn’t bear it anymore. Tentatively, I rested my hand on Val’s forearm. The light dusting of dark hair felt soft beneath my fingers. While he still seemed frozen elsewhere, he didn’t pull away.
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” I whispered. “I can’t imagine that kind of loss.” I took a steadying breath. “And I’m also sorry for the things I said to you forever ago on that plane. I—I didn’t know about… I mean, I never would have insinuated that…” I bit my lip, raising my eyes to the ceiling tiles as if they could forgive me.
“I regret all of it,” I told the ceiling. “How I’ve acted all these months. Even though I didn’t know the realyouback then, you still didn’t deserve the awful way I treated you.”
I finally summoned enough courage to meet Val’s gaze, but it had moved. I followed it to my hand nervously stroking his arm while I spoke. I froze.
Val slowly lifted his eyes to meet mine.
My breath caught at the emotion in them. While they remained dry, the depth of pain in his chestnut irises spoke volumes. Of unfulfilled days and abandoned promises. Of a loneliness so deep I didn’t know how he had ever summoned the strength to go on living.
Ever so gently, Val lifted my hand away and set it back on the desk with a sad smile. He walked to one of the windows, cracking it open and taking a rattling breath.
A few heartbeats later, I joined him. I wanted nothing more than to assure him he wasn’t alone in this moment. Something told me he’d been bearing this burden alone for far too long.
So we stood, side by side, gazing out at the Chicago skyline.Rain splashed the sidewalks below, the sky finally relinquishing its heaviness.
“Thank you for your apology. And thank you for… Just, thank you.” He kept his eyes trained on the downpour, taking a few more shaky breaths from the cracked window.
“No, thankyoufor sharing. That couldn’t have been easy.”
“It wasn’t.” He turned, offering a weary smile. “But thank you all the same.” His posture seemed to relax with every passing minute, his breathing becoming more even. Val swayed sideways and softly knocked his shoulder against mine. “Seems to me like you’re trouble.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Trouble?”
“Trouble.” Val chuckled, almost to himself. “I’m way too honest with you.”
A few silent minutes passed. I tried to absorb that information but wasn’t quite sure what he meant by it. A low growl in my stomach distracted me.
“CanIbe honest for a minute?” I asked.
“By all means, Adams. Probably couldn’t stop you anyway.” Val seemed to have returned to his playful tone, though there was a new softness in his eyes when he looked at me.
I decided I liked that look. I hoped it was here to stay. This Val was someone I could be friends with. Easily respect.
“I’m starving.”
Val laughed.
“My stomach is eating me from the inside out. And since you haven’t said anything about food, nor have I seen you eat anything this entire day, I’m convinced you’re not human.”
His deep, rich laughter made me glow with pride. I tried to think of other stupid stuff to say, if only to make it last. If only to distract him from the pain still lingering in his eyes.
“I’m trying to decide between a robot, alien, or vampire.”
